


Aubade (In your arms, I am home)

by Miss_Rust



Series: Here with me [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Body Worship, British!Jon, But just the second chapter, Declarations Of Love, Did I write extra words just to get an even number ? Yes I did., Domestic Fluff, Dormitories, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Idiots in Love, Intimacy, Jon is so fucking whipped its cute, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Making Love, Mornings, Muscles, Naked Cuddling, Norwegian!Tormund, Pampering, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Romance, Sappy, THEY'RE DORKS, Tormund is very attentive, especially tormund, he baby, jonmundweek2020, they fuck, this is so sappy i can just tag this "love making" and be done with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:16:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23302258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Rust/pseuds/Miss_Rust
Summary: Aubade: a song or poem greeting the dawn, usually a love song.Jon and Tormund share their first Saturday morning as a couple.
Relationships: Tormund Giantsbane/Jon Snow
Series: Here with me [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1675798
Comments: 20
Kudos: 114





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Day 2 of the Jonmundweek2020! The topic was Laziness/Domesticity! 
> 
> Thank you to @louhetar, my darling, who beta'd this! 
> 
> This will become part of a series!

They had just gotten together, and now life was bliss.

The moment Jon had noticed that he was in love with his best friend, it had taken Tormund just days to realise. And then it was two weeks of agony. The ginger, for some reason, had thought it would be a good idea to distance himself because he feared that their friendship might collapse, even though he returned Jon's feelings tenfold. 

After he had staged an intervention, because he had woken up from a nightmare and found Tormund stress-baking in the kitchen in the middle of the night, they were together. He woke up in his best friend's arms the next day, neither of them able to stand to be apart for longer now that they had made up. 

That was a week ago. 

This Saturday morning isn't much different than the one last week. Apart from the fact that now, he isn't emotionally raw. They were basically crying their eyes out in the middle of the night because they missed each other so much. 

Tormund can be a dumbass sometimes, but he understands. His best friend- boyfriend (he's still getting used to it) just simply valued their friendship so much he didn't want to fuck it up. 

He's so soft sometimes, and Jon loves it. 

He woke up some time ago, and he's pretty sure the Norwegian is still asleep. His head is tucked under Tormund's, resting underneath his chin, one leg hooked around Tormund's, so he's lying on his side. The ginger is holding him close, one arm around his back, secure on his hip. 

Tormund's shirtless, and Jon loves it. His chest hair is incredibly ginger, like his fiery hair and beard, and extends quite far down, as he had delightedly found out a couple of days ago. 

It's so thick, it nearly feels like fur. Jon has his hand on Tormund's chest, tangled in it carefully. It's heaven. Tormund's snoring lightly, cosy, small noises, so different from what he can usually hear from his boisterous best friend. 

He could fall asleep like this again; he feels so safe and comfortable. And they don't even have to get up anytime soon, so he just let his big guy sleep and daydreams a bit. No lectures on Saturdays. A lazy day as they come. 

The sun is peeking through his blinds a bit, basking them in a warm light. Some of it catches on Tormund's chest hair, and it’s basically glowing. Intrigued, he moves his hand, carefully, very delicately, and strokes gently through it, watching in awe as the light catches in it. 

The ginger sleeps on. Tormund's always had a deep sleep; Jon could draw on his face right now if he wanted and the man wouldn't wake up. He drops a small kiss on his boyfriends- his boyfriends- throat, just because he can. 

That gets a small snuffle out of him, and Jon has to stifle a giggle. The Norwegian is way too cute. 

He lets his gaze wander across the room, they're sleeping in Tormund's because he has a bigger bed. When they had first gotten here, during freshers, all of them had unanimously decided that "the big guy" should get the room with the big bed. 

Tormund over-towered most of them. Puny English men, he had said, back then when his accent was still a lot more obvious than now. Not that Jon was that much smaller than him. But he was, a bit, and Tormund relished in it, once they got close.

They've known each other for over a year now. Been best friends for nearly the same amount of time, having clicked like, immediately. He doesn't know how it took him so long to realise he had fallen for him. 

He knew that Tormund liked guys and girls alike. He had seen him have some flings with no strings attached when they were out clubbing and pined hard, not even realising it at the time. 

But now, all of that attention was on him instead, and this was no fling. They were actually dating now. He was still a bit incredulous at that fact. And Tormund- it was everything he had ever wanted. 

Tormund makes him laugh, constantly. Considering the fact that he's usually quite quiet and restrained, that's something. 

He's incredibly sexy as well, and his type. The type of person that can basically like, manhandle him without much effort (which is quite hard to do because even though he is not the tallest, he's still built).

Tormund is not, necessarily, ripped like a bodybuilder with a six-pack, (that's not healthy, that's dehydration, Robb's voice sounds in his head), but so strong, deep core muscles and his arms-

He's drooling. Damn. And here he is, actually, literally lying in his crushes' arms. It feels so good. 

Above him, Tormund makes a groaning noise and twitches. Seems like he's coming out of deep sleep. Jon drops another kiss to his pulse, only because he can. 

His boyfriend's hand twitches on his waist, gripping him a bit tighter.  
"Tormund?" he whispers, still unsure if the man is awake or not, he can never tell.

"Grmblfhffffhh" comes the reply, and then-

An insistent pressure on his back as Tormund moves his hand from where it's resting on his hip, turning to face him, and effectively pulls him a bit further down, into his chest. Now his other arm rests on his upper back, holding him close, while the other one- 

On his bum. There is a hand on his ass right now. And his face is pushed into Tormund's chest hair and-

Breathe, Snow, fucking breathe- 

Blimey, He must be absolutely fucking red in his face by now, bloody hell. How is he still so astonished at this kind of stuff? He is kind of glad they're both wearing boxers still, a hand to his bare ass right now he probably wouldn't survive. 

He breathes into Tormund's chest, enjoying the feeling. His chest is so warm. 

Above him, Tormund's breathing has evened out again, so he dares to carefully nuzzle at his best friend's ginger chest curls. It kind of feels like he has fucking, fur on his chest. So soft. He smells so fucking good too. It's entirely unfair. 

A rumble comes from above him, or rather in front of him, deep from the Norwegians' chest. 

"Mornin'" Tormund grumbles, voice so very hoarse and deep- it sends shivers down his spine. 

Jon just hums back in reply, happily nuzzling his best friends' chest some more, now that he knows he's actually awake. 

"You a cat? Nuzzling like that?" Tormund squeezes his butt in reply, with a joking tone, but his voice still full of sleep, and the kiss he drops on Jon's head lessens the tone. 

"Fuck off." Jon grins into Tormund's chest in reply, affectionate. The laugh in reply resounds through him, and he can't stop his smile. A second later, Tormund's other hand drops to his butt, and he's hauled up, so their faces are at the same level.

"Hi" Jon breathes, grinning, and settles in, head lying on Tormund's arm.

"Hi, yourself" Tormund croaks back, and gazes at his lips, shortly flickering back up to catch Jon's eyes. Asking for consent, always, before he moves in and kisses him.

The man's lips are so soft and warm, moving against his, their breath mingling. Jon relishes in the feeling, morning breath be damned. It's actually not that bad today. 

Tormund sighs against his lips, one hand now on the small of his back while the other is in his hair, and goddamnit, that could be one of the best parts of this relationship.

It's pure bliss. 

Jesus Christ, he's fucking whipped.

They lie like this, for a long while, just kissing, no tongue, only their lips moving together, against each other. 

Until his bladder finally announces his presence, and he has to cut it short. 

"Bathroom time", he announces and extracts himself from Tormund, who literally whines at him.

"Five more minutes- " 

"I'll cuddle you all you want later, Tor," Jon snorts at his boyfriend's antics.

"Ugh, right."

The toilets are on the other side of the hallway, so Jon's picked up one of Tor's shirts to not be downright indecent, but luckily no one is really up yet. He also quickly runs to his room to get his toothbrush, why he hasn't brought it over yet, is beyond him. He's basically slept in Tormund's room for the entire last week.

He walks over into Tormund's room, brushing his teeth still. Luckily, each room does have its own sink with a mirror, so he comes to stand in front of that. Tormund's still gone while Jon's there. 

He's so happy. Tormund's shirt is incredibly big on him, and he feels absolutely tiny in it. And it smells like him too. 

The door claps, and then there are two arms encircling him. Jon leans his head back, noting the top of his head barely reaches Tormund's chin like this.

"Hi." 

Jon gargles back at him, mouth full of toothpaste. 

He catches the other's eye in the mirror, watching as Tormund unabashedly checks him out.

"You look good in this," the Norwegian says quietly, one big hand tugging at the hem of the white shirt- Tormund's white shirt. 

Jon hums in reply, finishing brushing and spitting out. 

"You just say that because it's yours."

"Maybe."

They grin at each other, comfortable, and Jon settles back, leaning against the broad body behind him. 

"We look good together, don't we?" Jon smiles, his grey eyes catching the blue ones in the mirror again. 

"You look good, Jon, you're practically a model." 

"Fuck off, so are you, with those muscles," 

"You think so?" 

"Yes." 

Jon collapses into laughter as Tormund starts posing in the mirror, like a supermodel, somehow managing to never let go of his waist at the same time. 

"Shut up, you big lug," he wheezes, the faces Tormund's pulling are too much for him. 

Tormund pulls him back against his chest, but not without a last one. He flexes his arm just in front of Jon. 

And he can't stop himself, he needs to touch. Tormund indulges him, keeping his arm flexed as Jon runs a finger across his muscles, a bit in awe. 

"Hmm?" Tormund sounds teasing.

"Nothing- I-"Jon feels caught out, but Tormund just laughs, a deep rumble coming from behind him. 

"You like my muscles, huh?"

"Uh-huh."

That's the only thing Jon can utter right now, and dammit, he's blushing. He can see it in the mirror. He puts his hands up to hide his face, embarrassed. 

Tormund is still laughing into his hair as Jon groans into his hands.

"Awwww, babe, noooo- I'm flattered! I love that you love my muscles!" 

"Fuck off."

"Such nice language, darling!"

Jon takes his hands off his face to glare at him, which makes his boyfriend only laugh more. 

"It's sweet, Jon. You can always ogle me if you want."

"...Okay"

"...Do you wanna see these muscles work?" 

"What do you mean?" 

In reply, Tormund just makes him turn around, and then suddenly, he's in the air. He can feel strong arms just under his legs and bum, and the squeak that comes out of his mouth-

Tormund just grins, smugly, as Jon braces against his chest in shock, and moves him so that he's basically straddling Tormund's hips. Out of reflex, to support himself (even though it seems like Tormund is managing just fine) Jon wraps his legs around his waist. 

"Hey" 

"Hi" Jon squeaks back, and- "You're not even struggling, are you?"

"Nope."

There's no way to escape Tormund's eyes now, no way to hide his blush.

"….You like this."

Aaaaaaand he has caught on. Jon can't really defend himself, it's incredibly hot to have a boyfriend that can basically just lift you without effort. 

"You like like this."

Suddenly the mood has shifted, from a joking, casual atmosphere to a much more intimate, seductive one, as Tormund eyes his lips hungrily.

"Sue me, you're sexy, Tormund," Jon says defiantly, trying hard to ignore how hard he is against his boyfriend's stomach.

"So are you," comes the reply, and then they're kissing. 

Jon's barely aware they're moving until Tormund's knees hit the bed and he carefully lower's them down, never once letting go of him. Now that the Norwegian doesn't have to hold Jon up, his hands have free reign, but he doesn't let go of his backside. 

No, he's holding his bum now, squeezing a bit and Jon sighs into the kiss at the feeling. 

He's in Tormund's lap now, and he can feel his boyfriend getting hard, where their crotches are pressed together. 

"Fuck," he hears him hiss as Jon carefully starts grinding against him. He feels practically dizzy with pleasure, not able to keep his breathing normal. Neither is Tormund, though. He feels smug at being able to do this, just being able to make Tormund feel good.

And Tormund lets him.

"Shit, Jon-" 

Jon presses his lips against Tormund's again, taking over the upper hand rapidly. If Tormund can make him speechless by lifting him like it's no effort at all, he can absolutely try to do the same. Make him speechless that is. 

He pushes at the broader man's shoulders, never once breaking their kiss, or stopping grinding into him. 

And he can. He can just do this, basically whenever he wants. (Provided of course, that Tormund wants.) The realisation sends shivers down his spine, but maybe that's just the fingers stroking down his back with just the right amount of pressure. 

They set up a rhythm, Jon moving, and Tormund supporting him with a firm grasp on his hip.

"Fuck-" 

Jon can't keep quiet, the word ripping out of him as he tries to stifle his groans, biting his lip. They never move their heads apart, too out of breath to kiss but pressing their foreheads together. 

"Can you come like this?" Tormund asks, breathless, blue eyes looking down into his grey ones.

"Don't know-"

"Don't stop-"

"Won't-" 

Maybe he can. The pressure is building, and goddamnit, it's like they're fucking teenagers again, just coming from rutting against each other-

And yes, he thinks he can, like this, because not even a minute later his legs start shaking and it's so hard to keep the rhythm going, but Tormund's iron grip on his hips ensure they keep moving, and then Tormund grinds up into him-

He has to hide his face in the crook of his boyfriend's neck from the sheer intensity of it, as the white-hot pleasure starts to overtake him.

"Jon-" the Norwegian gasps above him, and he can't do anything but whine in reply.

Tormund keeps grinding into him through his aftershocks, and through the haze of his mind, Jon bites down and sucks at the collarbone in front of him, leaving a lovebite right there. 

It sends Tormund over the edge, twitching, holding Jon's hips down as he grinds through his aftershocks.

As they come to a stop, Jon still with his face in the crook of Tormund's neck, they're breathing heavily for a while.

And then they're laughing, Tormund starts first, a low noise starting from deep within him, to a full-on giggle, and Jon is so out of breath, but he can't help but laugh, too.

He moves up, bracing on his elbows so he can look at Tormund, wincing at the damp cold feeling in his boxers. 

"Rutting like the teenagers." he grins down at the Norwegian, who grins back.

"You gave me a hickey."

"Lovebite."

"Lovebite, sure."

"I hate that word." 

"Oh?" 

"Uh-huh, lovebite is much nicer, I think." 

"I wanna see-" 

Tormund cranes his neck, but no luck, he can't see it from there. He looks back up at Jon, fixing him with a petulant look. 

"As much as I love you, move, darling, so I can see."

"No." 

Jon grins as he watches his counterpart raise an eyebrow at him, but the small smile playing around his lips, shows that Tormund is quite happy with Jon straddling him, too. 

"No?" 

"Nuh-uh."

A dangerous glint takes over the blue eyes nevertheless, and a second later, with a display of strength, he's being flipped over. 

Both of them wince at the cold feeling in their pants, and Tormund sighs.

"Gonna clean us up, give me a second. Do you want new boxers?

Jon takes a minute to mull it over. 

"No, I think I'll be fine without, if you don't mind."

"I don't." 

"Okay."

Tormund drops a kiss on his lips and moves to get up, throwing him a wet rag from the sink. 

Jon starts cleaning himself up, dropping both his boxers and the rag on the floor when he's done, and climbing beneath the blankets again. When he looks up, Tormund seems to have done the same, now standing bare in front of the mirror, mustering his lovebite. 

A few moments pass where nothing happens but Tormund scrutinising his lovebite, and Jon ogling his bare ass. 

Or so he thinks. As he lets his view wander up, he suddenly realises he's being stared at. Tormund is not, in fact, scrutinising his lovebite anymore, but watching Jon instead through the mirror. 

Jon smiles bashfully as his boyfriend turns around, trying hard to keep his view on his face rather than dropping down.

He doesn't succeed. They've fucked before, but never really during the day, so it's all new land. Tormund seems to have waited for Jon to cave and take a look, as he erupts into laughter.

"You know you're allowed to watch, love" he brings out between laughs, climbing into bed next to him. 

"I know."

"We literally just had a quicky, love."

"I know." he's blushing, he's sure he is.

"Awwww, don't be embarrassed, where's that Jon that took over, not like 10 minutes ago?"

"Fuck off."

But Tormund pulls him close, and the feeling of a hand on his bum is still so new, he has to hide his face in the sheets again. 

"Spoon?"

"Okay" Jon whispers, and then turns. 

The feeling of a warm, half-hard cock (again? ) pressed against his ass is also, incredibly new. Especially that that's Tormund, his best friend turned boyfriend. His lover. That doesn't fit well, either. Partner. That rings true.

"Jesus, the ass on you, Snow." 

Jon has to giggle. Tormund sounds blissed out and also excited. 

"I am so glad we get to spend the entire day in bed today."

"Me too."

"I mean, eventually we need to eat, but-"

"I know what you mean." 

"Yeah."

They lie in silence for a while, and Jon is dozing. Tormund has started to play with his hair. The sun is shining, basking them in warm light. 

“I love you,” comes the hoarse whisper from behind him, “I think I might have since I first saw you.” 

“Really?” 

Tormund shrugs behind him, he can feel it. 

“I just- I don’t know. The first time I saw you, you were laughing and covered in fucking glitter, because it was fresher’s week and I arrived later than everyone else. We all went out to party, remember? Because not everyone had arrived yet and we didn’t want to divide up the rooms yet and thus we just didn’t go to sleep.”

“I vaguely remember that.” Jon laughs, remembering he was totally smashed then, “but I don’t remember seeing you then.”

“Yeah, I was tired, and there you were, sitting on a sofa, with golden glitter on your cheeks and the prettiest smile I had seen.” 

“Tormund, you sap.” 

“Fuck off, it’s true.” 

Jon grasps at Tormunds hand and brings it to his mouth, leaving a kiss on it. 

“You’re my best friend, you know that? I love you. Even though you’re sappy sometimes.”

“Especially because I’m sappy sometimes. You love it, don’t deny it.” 

They both erupt into laughter at that. 

“Shut up, let me be sappy too!” Jon giggles.

Tormund laughs at him, and then he can feel his hair getting lifted up, exposing his neck. 

The Norwegian drops a kiss there. 

“I’d never stop you from being mushy.” 

After that, it’s only calm breathing, as they relax together, Jon’s eyes drooping at the small motions his boyfriend draws on his arms. 

It’s bliss, and Jon is so happy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is pure smut. As in, it's pure, and it's smut. And it's also just, smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me a while, but here it is! :D Enjoy! 
> 
> Thanks to @louhetar for encouraging me and doing a beta :D

Jon is sleepy, so sleepy, and being encased in Tormund's arms, he feels so safe. They doze together for a long while, neither of them saying anything. There is a big, muscular arm just, sort of, lying on him? Holding him close, and he marvels at the muscles again. They're quite a bit larger than his own. He lays his arm on top of Tormund's and pulls it close, burrowing into the warm body behind him. He can feel the ginger chest hair against his own nude back. 

Lying together like this? Both of them bare and warm under the blankets, it's so intimate. Jon hears Tormund humming really lowly behind him, and for some reason, the deep tone resonates deep inside of him. 

Tormund starts nibbling on his neck, one hand lifting his long dark curls. He doesn't open his eyes, basking in the sensation. There is a tingling sensation starting again, somewhere down in his pelvis region. Jon can't decide whether that's from Tormund playing with his neck, breathing down on it, or from his boyfriend's cock lying against his ass, pressing perfectly a bit in between his cheeks. It feels like bliss. Is this being on cloud nine? It's  _ something _ , at least.

His head is lying on Tormund's arm, which is also holding up his hair, but he has stopped paying attention to his boyfriend's left arm. The redhead had sneakily taken it from where Jon had cradled it close. Now it's stroking across his chest, down, encircling a nipple, and it's so soft, he has to shiver.

"Feels good?" Tormund checks in and his deep voice breathes directly over his ear. If he wasn't rock hard already, that would have done the trick. 

"Yeah-" he breathes back.

"Can I-" the hand snakes down, carefully, but never too far, still waiting for his permission.

"Please." 

He loves Tormund's hands. They're big and rough, kind of calloused, and so much larger than his own. Also, they're very much able to encircle his entire length.

"Spread," comes the command from somewhere above him, and a leg nudges between his. 

Jon complies almost immediately, the request waking  _ something _ inside him. Needing to obey that tone, he's lifting his leg and dropping it behind Tormund's. It's effectively leaving him to be spread open and vulnerable to his best friend's touch. They're spooning still and for some reason, Jon really really likes this position. This gives Tormund a lot of access. 

It's familiar like this, almost as if masturbating, but also so, so different. 

The different angle also allows more space between his legs, and Tormund moves and then-

His boyfriend's length slips between his legs, further between his ass cheeks as the new angle gives more space, but Tormund's also  _ pushing  _ more, and his dick slides against his hole.

"Good boy."

"Shit-" 

That hits his praise kink so hard. 

Jon doesn't quite know what to do with his hands, fisted into the sheets in front of him. Tormund seems to notice and to decide to give him something to do, because his hand leaves his cock and gently grasps at Jon's left, placing it on his ass where Tormund is gliding tantalisingly slow.

"Hold yourself open for me." 

Tormund's dick slides smoother between his cheeks now, against his hole, and Jon can't stop the small noises falling from his lips. 

He wants the Norwegian's hand back on his cock, and whines. But the ginger doesn't immediately comply. Jon's right hand is being moved up and entangled with Tormund's other one, that's still grasping his hair, pulling at it a bit. 

Jon moans. And then, Tormund licks the palm of his hand, and oh- that feels so good. 

The slide is much better now. 

"Look at you, you're leaking already, good." 

The larger man rubs his thumb across his head, small circles, playing with his slit and wetting his cock with his precum. 

"Tor- "

"Shhh, it's okay, what do you want?" Tormund's voice is completely  _ steady _ \- Jon can't comprehend. He feels so fuzzy and hot-

"Hhnn-" he manages, panting hard.

"Use your words, love."

"More-"

"More what? Harder? Faster? More pressure?"

"More pressure, please" he breathes, not wanting to disappoint his boyfriend by not answering, but it's so hard through the fuzz in his mind. 

"Shit, you're so good." Tormund groans in response, "Listening to me like this. It's so hot. You're so hot."

His hand start's becoming a bit tighter, but the cock moving in between his cheeks doesn't change tempo. That's Tormund, just taking what he wants from him, and Jon loves it. 

Everything becomes hazy again, and Jon's distantly aware he's making small noises every time his boyfriend strokes him- but it's not enough. 

"Tor- please." 

"What do you need? Use your words, love," Tormund whispers into his ear, and Jon shudders against him. 

His back is plastered against the broader man's chest, they're still spooning, and it gives Tormund perfect leverage over everything. It makes him feel woozy, so he doesn't bring out any more words, just panting in ecstasy.

Tormund moves his hand so steadily, just right, and his toes are tingling. 

He whines, not able to start any sentence, his mind just gets lost in the friction. 

"Jon, tell me" Tormund is relentless.

Jon doesn't even  _ know _ what to tell him, everything feels so good right now, he honestly doesn't know what Tormund could do to make it better, but he needs  _ more _ . 

"Hmmm, if you don't tell, I'm gonna ask." 

His boyfriend moves away, pulling him from his side onto his back, and Jon whines at the loss. And then Tormund is on top of him, kneeling between his spread legs, never stopping stroking him. 

It's even better when Jon gets used to it. The ginger leans down to kiss him, but it's short and chaste, and Jon pants into his mouth. 

"Look at me." 

Jon does. Tormund's eyes are piercing blue, as he hovers so close in front of his face, but not close enough for Jon to kiss him, no matter how much he strains his neck. Maintaining eye contact makes everything much more intense now. He feels laid bare as if Tormund is looking directly into his soul. 

"Jon, what do you need? I want to make you feel good."

"Fingers" The word is barely out of his mouth, he doesn't even realise it.

"My fingers? Where, here?" 

Tormund thumbs across his hole, and Jon bucks up. 

"Seems like that's a yes." 

Jon moans, and his eyes slip shut as Tormund reaches over to the nightstand, grabbing the lube, his hand leaving his dick to stabilise himself.

"Hey hey hey, I said look at me, Jon." the Norwegian lifts his head with his index, "Keep those beautiful grey eyes on me." 

"Tormund" Jon manages, the warm fuzzy feeling stopping clouding his head as Tormund has removed his hands from stroking him. And yet, he looks up into Tormund's blue eyes as the giant settles back between his legs, covering him with his body.

"Can I?" 

Curse him. Why does he have to be so goddamn fucking perfect? Jon can do nothing but nod and braces his hands on the broad man's chest. The bigger man is moving above him, dwarfing him, adjusting, and Jon feels so safe like this. Nothing else matters now, just them. 

"If anything hurts, you tell me."

As Tormund carefully, so carefully pushes a finger in, Jon wants to cover his face, it's so overwhelming. But his boyfriend had asked him to look, to keep his eyes on him, and he wants so desperately to be  _ good- _

"Fucking hell, you're so pretty like this, I could get used to it."

It's a whole struggle. He feels so good, and Tormund's eyes are on him, and Jon feels like he's looking into his soul. 

Before long, Tormund has him begging again because it didn't take him very long at all to find Jon's sweet spot, rubbing it while he stretches him.

"Tormund,  _ Tormund _ , please, I can't take it,  _ please _ fuck me now," he sounds so incoherent, and self-consciousness is nagging at his insides, but it's only a whisper. He doesn't care. That's his best friend right there, wonderfully torturing him. His boyfriend. He's allowed to let loose a bit. 

"You can take it, love" Tormund grins above him, teasingly. "But I won't tease." 

The larger man cradles him close, and Jon wraps his legs around the muscular torso above him. He leans up to try to kiss the smug grin off, but Tormund doesn't stop smiling. 

It makes him smile too, it's so infectious and full of love. 

"Breathe, Jon. You're doing so well" Tormund whispers against his lips, never breaking eye contact. 

And then he pushes in. Jon watches the blue eyes flutter close as his boyfriend groans loudly above him.

The feeling is so new but also familiar. Tormund's cock feels so heavy in him, stretching him open. They've fucked before, but now? For the first time, he can  _ see _ his boyfriend's face above him. It makes it almost even better. 

Seeing his face, watching him try to get his laboured breathing under control, without moving an inch to let Jon get used to the feeling- 

He's perfect. Perfect for him. 

"Okay? Hurts?" 

Where his voice was controlled and even before, now it is slurring a bit. His pupils are dark, blown wide open in pleasure. 

"Need a minute" Jon manages to breathe against his lips. 

"Kiss?" the answering murmur comes.

"Please" 

Like this, Jon has to crane his neck a bit to reach Tormund's lips, the man absolutely dwarfs him. 

He doesn't think he'll ever get enough of Tormund, of this, of his kisses. He gets kissed so deeply, and passionately, and both his hands are cradling Jon's face; it just feels so all-consuming. He can't stop the little whine escaping him, but Tormund groans in reply and one of his hands start moving down from his face to his chest, caressing carefully.

The too-tight, stretchy feeling passes slowly and gets replaced with white-hot pleasure instead. Jon tries moving up against the strong body, just a small movement. 

Tormund exhales carefully above him, and Jon can feel his muscles tense in his attempt to not move, and let Jon do what he feels like. It's so hot. 

"I think you can, now" Jon whispers, never stopping to look in his eyes like Tormund had asked him to.

"Fuck-"

His boyfriend starts moving, carefully pulling out only to push back in slowly, and his stare is now so intense, mustering Jon for any signs of pain. Jon wants to hide behind his arms, but it's like he's pinned, and the small noises just fall from his lips, he couldn't stop them if he wanted to. 

Tormund seems to know, he  _ always _ knows, and a small, satisfied grin takes over his face. 

"Feels good, doesn't it?" He smiles, "You're doing so well for me, Jon."

Jon nods, trying to show him that he is, he's trying to be  _ good _ because he can't manage words. 

"I know." 

Of course, he does. 

The man above him starts moving faster, but no less gentle than before. It's so fluid, their movements together, as though they were made for each other. 

He tries very hard not to dig his fingers too deep into Tormund's back, but it's impossible. Instead, he moves back against him, matching his rhythm, and it's all he can think about now. It consumes him. 

A hand wraps around his length, caressing slowly, in tune with the languid thrusts, but never quite jacking him off. Just deliberate, careful, heavy strokes. It's new, but he  _ likes _ it. This isn't a simple fucking, this is intimate, this is what they'd call  _ making love. _

He shudders against the hot body on top of him, as the shaking overtakes his legs. He rarely gets that reaction from fucking, usually only reserved for blowjobs. 

But this is so  _ good. _

He cries out, small keens leaving his lips unbidden, with each thrust Tormund gifts him.

Tormund's whispering small nothings above him, but they don't register. The only thing registering is Tormund's face, looking down at him with wonder. 

Oh. He did tell Tormund about the leg-shaking thing.

"I love you-" the words are out of his mouth before Jon realises. 

" _ Jon-"  _ the reply comes, almost instantly, panted in his ear. Tormund wraps the hand he was bracing on around the back of his neck, cradling him, pulling Jon further into his chest, and now he can't see anything but red, long curls, "Fuck,  _ Jon." _

The change of the angle makes Tormund hit his prostate on every thrust, and before he knows it, he's overwhelmed by it, shaking apart in Tormund's arms. Blood is rushing through his ears and eyes, and there's a keening noise, and he doesn't hear anything else.

Tormund keeps going, coaxing him through it, and just before it gets too much, Tormund's knees buckle, and warmth floods him as his boyfriend clutches him close with an iron grip. 

They shudder through the aftershocks together, Tormund never once releasing his grip. Jon feels incredibly small now and tries to bury even deeper into the protective body above him. 

Tormund nuzzles into his hair, rubbing their cheeks together. He's heavy, but not crushing Jon, still holding his own weight. It's exactly what he needs right now. 

At some point, Tormund pulls away a bit to look at him, caressing his face and stroking some sweaty curls clinging to it away. He seems- enamoured, for the lack of a better word. Jon leans up, begging for a kiss, whole body asking to be held, and he's obliged.

They lie like this, kissing for a while until Tormund has gone fully soft inside him. Carefully, the man pulls away from him, and Jon whines and then whines some more as Tormund pulls out completely. 

He's sore. Wincing, he tries to shut his legs, but Tormund grasps his ankle and holds. 

"Stop for a second there, love, I need to check if I hurt you." 

“You never do.” 

“Still, there are accidents, I won’t have you suffer.” 

Jon nods in assent, and Tormund moves towards him. 

A large finger slips inside him, meticulously and thoroughly checking his walls for tears. Jon groans at the overstimulation, his cock giving a weak twitch at his boyfriend's ministrations. But he's too tired, and he still feels so small, and he wants to be held, goddamnit. 

"Tormund." he whimpers, holding out his hands in a demanding way, "hold me."

"I'm coming, love, just let me-"

With a dry t-shirt (Tormund's), the redhead cleans off the cum of their bellies, while making soothing noises at him. 

Seconds later, he's back in Tormund's arms, burrowing his face under his chin, right where he left the lovebite earlier today. 

His boyfriend (his  _ boyfriend, _ he still can't quite comprehend yet, but the word leaves him abuzz with feelings _ ) _ is drawing tiny circles on his back. Occasionally, it causes a shiver to run down his spine.

"I love you too, Jon." 

"Huh?" 

"Love you." Tormund murmurs into his hair, "you said it to me. During- I know I said it before, but I wanted to say it back again." 

"Oh." Jon smiles into the bigger man’s chest. 

"Uh-huh" 

They lie in silence, comfortable, for a while, basking in the other's presence.

"You know, that thing you did…"

"What thing?" Jon asks, lifting his head to look at his best friend.

"The thing with the shaking legs." Tormund grins down at him, smugly, "You said you don't usually get it during sex because the stimulation isn't quite right?"

"Yep," he pops the p, still confused at the redhead's antics, "It's- I never get that from being fucked? Like, I usually need a mouth down there to get it, it feels so good. It’s the first time I had shakey legs during sex."

"Yeah?" Tormund is still smiling at him, like a self-satisfied cat.

Suddenly, it dawns on him. But Tormund's already speaking. 

" _ I _ did that." 

"Yeah." 

"I did  _ that!" _

"You did, you smug bastard."

"And I'll do it again." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

The tension has gotten thick again, between them. They're watching each other now, and Jon could count his boyfriend's eyelashes right now, they're so close. 

Tormund's voice is thick with emotion, rough and deep. Jon wants to keep him close forever. 

"You know," he pauses "I'm gonna keep you, and give you all the pleasure you want. I'll make your legs shake all over again, and you're gonna be mine."

Jon hums, smiling and caresses his face. 

"Self-confident, are we?" he laughs, but  _ oh,  _ he's so in love with this man. 

Tormund is confident, though, and serious.

"Yeah," his voice cracks, "and I'll be yours, for as long as you'll have me." 

"Okay," he whispers back, equally earnest, but still smiling. 

"Okay?" 

"Okay."

Jon's view slips down to Tormund's lips, breaking their gaze, and they're kissing again. 

The sun is still shining through the window. It's Saturday, and slowly the dorms come alive, noises ringing throughout the entire house. He's lying in his best friend's,  _ boyfriend's _ arms, and he wouldn't wanna be anywhere else but here. 

They get ripped out of their reverie when his stomach growls, and the taller man laughs at him. 

"Breakfast in bed?" he asks, and Jon nods. 

"Are you gonna spoil me the entire day, then?" 

"If I can." 

A hand wanders down his side as Tormund gets up, possessive. 

"Don't get dressed while I'm gone." 

"Okay." 

A kiss on his forehead and he's gone, cloaked in a bathrobe. Jon lets his head fall back on the cushions and smiles. This is gonna be a good day. He still can't quite believe that he is together now with his best friend, it feels like he's in a fairytale. 

But they  _ are _ , and this is reality. And Tormund is making him  _ breakfast _ . 

He can't wait to see what the future will bring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I crave comments, like the goats crave that mineral :D What did you think? (Kudos are also similarly awesome! ♥)

**Author's Note:**

> How did you like it? There will be a smutty second chapter after this! 
> 
> Please leave me a comment, I crave feedback!!!! Or kudos! Smash that button if you liked it!


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